


A Normal Life

by unholyfruitt



Category: Maurice (1987), Maurice - E. M. Forster
Genre: Animals, Canon Gay Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mild Smut, Nature, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26173885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholyfruitt/pseuds/unholyfruitt
Summary: Some short fluff pieces with Maurice and Alec in the greenwood. The chapters are separate and can be read as standalones
Relationships: Maurice Hall/Alec Scudder
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	1. A Garden In Progress

Maurice was incapacitated. A stubborn, angry man told to rest and stay in while his lover took care of the garden they wanted to grow at the back of the cottage, near the modest henhouse almost hidden within the tall grass and dense foliage. Since it was Sunday, they could move freely, without being burdened by the looming responsibility of chopping wood, not that the two men didn’t enjoy it sometimes. However, in the previous week, Maurice had suffered several injuries on account of his ‘clumsy, blundering being’, as he put it. Not being used to manual labor didn’t help either. Accidental bruises, splinters, or simply tripping on an awkward piece of branch that stuck out became common, and Alec shut him in, forbidding Maurice to walk or take up any work that day unless it was absolutely necessary. Thus, he would sit near their bedroom window, on the uncomfortable chair, swiping the curtains to the side and lifting the opening. The sound of crunching old leaves beneath Alec’s feet, grass being snipped, dirt being dug; they were all sounds that calmed Maurice. 

It was captivating to watch Alec work on the garden, although from the window. The hush of the broom as he swept away the fallen leaves, his skilled fingers taking out the weeds. With some money they had saved, new flowerpots were purchased, which he filled with dirt and planted seeds in. They had put the pots in different places; lined on the small porch, inside in the sitting area and kitchen, and some near the garden. There were purple crocus, blooming dahlias, mischievous nerine, and bright, blushing begonias in the pots. The color of everything slowly turned from an overwhelming green to popping colors of lavender, of sun and maroon, and Maurice was in awe. 

Every Sunday morning since, Alec found himself waiting for the sun to rise up in the sky, taking its place at the throne, so that he and Maurice could begin their day outside in the loving company of each other and the nature that surrounded them, now that he was confident that Maurice had healed fully. He happily made two cups of tea in the morning, then both of them lunched lightly far into the afternoon. Alec would guide him on how to handle the seeds, the welcoming earth, and Maurice would linger near him, pretending to be immersed, not that he didn’t actually appreciate Alec teaching him. But it was his lover who he was immersed in, who stood out amongst all the flowers and evergreen. His grin seemed to behold sunlight and his eyes were bright, radiant when he talked about the nature of a particular flower, the way it reacted to rain and shine. His words were crisp, like morning rays that lit up a darkened room, pure and graceful. It was as if garden and greenwood shone only for Alec, and any other person would have only ruined it. But Maurice was biased of course, he thought, smiling.


	2. Rainy Day

As Maurice was in the kitchen, clearing up utensils and food, thunder sounded from above, as if it were a low, deep growl from a wolf. The windows rattled like weak suspects, and the sky outside became a bleak, pale bluish grey as the pitter-patter of rain began. Maurice closed the cabinet door and closed his eyes. It fell upon the feeble grass, on the dense trees that stretched their arms up to the sky. Somewhere, men on bicycles struggled to get home and women covered their heads as they shut their windows and doors to the rain. Suddenly, as if a jolt of lightning went through him, Maurice opened his eyes and remembered that he had put the washed clothes out to dry on the makeshift wire he and Alec hanged between two trees. 

He bounded to the back door and opened it, seeing a figure between the shards that fell from the sky, standing with his head facing up. It was Alec. He was standing still, completely at peace, which contradicted the storm happening around him, like a resolute wall. His eyes were closed, mouth slightly open as if he wanted to drink the rain. Maurice noticed that the wire stretched across the trees was bare, and that their clothes were in a cane basket in the corner, underneath the short ledge of the porch, dry as bones. Still looking at Alec, he went closer, getting wet in the rain, seeing that his brows were relaxed. He took deep breaths, inhaled the air, the aroma of earth around him, and then exhaled. His cotton shirt was almost completely wet, sticking to the skin underneath, having nowhere else to go. As Alec sensed his stare, he opened his eyes and looked at Maurice. Then he smiled, a small, pretty smile like a thin crescent moon in a stormy night. 

Long ago, Maurice and his sisters had danced in a rainstorm that fell upon the area. They chased each other, falling and slipping onto the soggy beds of freshly cut grass in a suburban England, grabbing fistfuls of muddied dresses and shirts, giggling like the children they were. Mrs. Hall caught them, crying out as she saw her perfect children act like complete hooligans, and sent the maids to drag them back in as the siblings wailed and complained kicking their shoes and getting murky water all over the white aprons of the women that held them tightly. They were given a very firm talking-to, all with waving fingers and pinching of arms. Maurice was shaken back into the present by Alec who took his hands and twirled him around, laughing, urging him to frolic together. Maurice grinned. No, he thought, no being dragged inside and dried by ruddy towels and forbidden to act anything but proper like a good gentleman. 

As Alec and him danced around in the rain, they both lost their footing, Alec stabling himself short of falling, but poor Maurice slipping ass-first into a fairly large puddle having formed in a dip in the ground, drenching him till the drawers. Alec guffawed, wheezing in between as he looked at his lover staring in disbelief back at him, utterly taken aback and annoyed in equal measure. 

‘That’s it!’ He said, trying to stand up, now laughing himself at the situation he was in. ‘I’m going to get you, you bastard! 

Alec sprinted off, running across the rippling stream, the giggles emanating from him as if they were from a cheeky lad no older than a teen. He heard Maurice running after him, calling out his name in between his own helpless laughter, their joy echoing into the evening. Slowing down, Alec pulled off his drenched, dripping shirt, and threw it right into Maurice’s face as he caught up to him, the piece of clothing colliding with skin with a loud ‘SPLAT’ sound, eliciting yet another fit of giggles from Alec, who crouched on the bank and laid down, catching his breath. Maurice laughed loudly, balling up the shirt and throwing it into another brown puddle near him. 

‘What’d you do that for, you idiot?!’ exclaimed Alec, pulling Maurice down by his hanging arm and punching him playfully. 

‘For soaking my trousers! I’ll surely catch a cold now, you beast,’ Maurice retorted, smirking. 

‘Yeah well, so will I! That’s TWO sickly beasts.’ 

Leaning against cold grass, they panted and wheezed with their last breaths of imminent mirth, until Maurice turned towards Alec and kissed him. In return, he dug his fingers into his wet locks, and kissed him back without hesitation. Their bodies barely touched, but not quite. Maurice could feel his heat, the rapid beating of his heart, their hearts. It was exhilarating. They drowned in it all, the sensation of Maurice kissing Alec, of Alec kissing him. 

They looked at each other as Maurice pulled back, faces inches away. His fingers were a contrast to Alec’s brown skin as his hand cupped his cheek. Alec turned his face into the curve of his palm and kissed it gently, and Maurice’s heart felt like it was melting, hot streams of love inside his veins instead of mundane blood. Rain fell intensely all around them, taking them in, pressing them deeper into the earth 

‘Careful,’ Alec breathed. ‘We might sin y’know, Mr. B’s going to be very upset indeed if he saw us now, ‘fornicatin’ in the open air,’ he chuckled, adding on the posh accent of the reverend. 

‘Shall we be damned to hell then? For violating the law that forbids these unnatural practices?’ Maurice asked in mock authority, smile being the result. 

The air between them was warm from breathing, from the moisture. Alec’s eyes were louder than his voice, roaring like a blizzard in the humid atmosphere, swarming around Maurice, taking him in. His pulse throbbed in his neck like a heavy drum, as did Maurice’s, both as if in sync with one another. 

‘Whatever be the crime, I’m afraid you and I are convicts for life.’ 

~ 

They entered their home, arms around each other’s waist, and Maurice was even more reluctant to let go when Alec buried himself deeper into his arm, holding on tight to him. His hand stayed on his lover’s waist, fingers circling slightly as Maurice danced in his mind, a smile twirling around his heart in the dim light of the den. In the bedroom, before lying down, Maurice took off his shirt, spreading it and Alec’s previously discarded shirt on the chair near the window, after wringing both of them out at the sink. 

Alec lay on the bed, facing Maurice, as a sunflower would turn towards the sun. His eyes sparkled as if he was witnessing a painting in a museum, the art touching him inside and out. Maurice felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, even though they had seen each other naked before, and done more than that, he thought, blushing then smiling. He sat down on the bed and Alec leaned closer. He could smell the familiar scent of flowers and rain, mixed with earth and traces of salt from sweat. Slowly, as if in a dream, he kissed Maurice’s lower lip, licking it. Looking at him, Maurice saw his eyes glint. Was it mischievousness? He stroked his cheek and brushed his lips against it, whispering something as the sound of the rain dulled, slowly muting.


	3. Three's Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maurice and Alec find a new companion in their greenwood

The hidden woods. A vast, stretching area between measly estates owned by the wealthy, but that was a different world altogether. A lone birdcall ringed through the trees, stirring them, and as if on cue, a light breeze elicited a rustle, moving grass like basil waves. The stream trickled like always, going farther and farther to meet a titanic lake parting the dense forest, moving lazily to other destinations. On the other side of the body of water, where the trees were taller and less further apart, rarely allowing sunlight to pass through the thick blanket of green, sounds of two axes emanated, as if in rhythm. Chop, chop. Chop, chop. A forehead was wiped with the back of a hand, cut logs that were to be shortened were piled on wheelbarrows, water and sandwiches were shared. 

As the sun began dropping, breaking apart into ruby and tangerine and mixing with the cerulean of the empty sky, the two men packed up their axes, took hold of the wheelbarrows, and ventured back to their cottage on the other side of the lake. The wooden bridge aiding them creaked, the rusty wheels of the barrows squeaking as the men discussed what they’d have for supper, thinking about snuggling near the fireplace and enjoying a nice novel together. Little did they know, four small paws trailed behind them, barely making a sound, listening carefully and watching. 

By the time they reached home, dusk had fallen, so the logs went into the storage area near the small kitchen, for the time being. A shed had yet to be built, but there was no rush. One man turned the light on, getting started on the meal, while the other got the fire going. Soft crackles soon filled the room, and the dampness of the wood cottage slowly finished, the abode becoming comfortable. After a few minutes, a sound came from the back door from where they had entered. A soft scratch. Neither of them heard it, amid domestic banter and lively chuckles. The sound came again. Scratch. Pointed nails on wood. This time, they heard it, turning towards the door.

‘Did you hear that?’ asked Maurice, licking the grease from his fingers.  
‘Yea,’ answered Alec. ‘Probably some kind o’ wood animal.’  
‘It sounded too…light. For a large animal, I mean. What could it be?’  
‘Rodent, mebbe. Smelled the food.’  
Maurice hmm-ed, standing up, walking to the door.

‘Come on, Maurice don’t,’ whined Alec, leaning back on his arms. ‘We’re in no state to take on a bleedin’ rat.’  
‘Worst case scenario, it’ll climb up your pant leg and gives you a good, hard-’  
‘Stop it!’ he laughed. ‘Why d’you want to open the door anyway?’  
Maurice shrugged. ‘I suppose I’m curious. If whatever’s outside keeps scratching, I’ll be restless all night.’  
‘I can think of more ways to make you restless…’ Alec murmured and looked up to find Maurice smiling.

From the blanket near the fireplace, Alec saw Maurice open the door and exclaim in surprise. He picked something up in his hands, moving it around to hold it like a child.  
‘Alec! Come look!’

And surely enough, as Alec walked to his lover, brows furrowed in confusion as to why Maurice would hold a dirty vermin, he saw a black cat in his arms. Dark like the sky before them, an almost indistinguishable mass of muddied fur, luminous green-grey eyes staring up at the two men, blinking. Its face opened to reveal a small pink mouth, meowing as Maurice cooed and quickly closed the door to not let the chilly air in. 

‘It’s…a cat,’ Alec began.  
‘Kitten, more like. Awww, Alec, he’s so tiny!’ Maurice giggled, seemingly becoming more excited every time the feline meowed, which tried to grab the buttons on his shirt playfully.  
‘Maurice? You’re not thinking of…’  
‘Oh, why ever not? He’s small, we can feed him from the food we make for ourselves, and he’s so terribly adorable, look!’ Maurice held up the cat, pushing it towards Alec, who had a look of shock and desperation. He could offer no real rebuttal to Maurice’s offer, yes of course the cat was adorable, and they way it blinked its cloudy eyes made Alec melt, but how could they keep him? They stay out the whole day to chop wood, they would only able to give him attention properly on weekends, and how did they know he already didn’t belong to anybody?

‘How d’we know that he isn’t already someone’s?’ asked Alec, putting his hands on his hips, trying to look responsible in front of Maurice, who looked as giddy as a schoolboy ever since the cat came in his arms.  
‘Well, we’ll put up some notices on the trees near town, put some up near the post office, do some asking around. Won’t we, my darling?’ Maurice asked the feline in a baby voice. ‘My wittle cuddly snuggly…’ 

The rest of the sentence got lost in kisses given to the kitten on its head, the parts that weren’t muddied, while Maurice went to the lavatory, changing shirts and beginning a nice soapy wash for the animal, who looked up at him with large eyes, pushing his head against Maurice’s pets and rubs, allowing him to get the mud out while also letting him scratch a particular spot behind the ears.

~

‘I suppose Maurice really likes you,’ Alec said to George, who sat comfortably in a wicker basket, warmed by wooly blankets underneath his belly. His ear twitched, as if listening intently to what the man wanted to say. It was a pleasant Saturday evening, and Maurice had gone for a wood delivery into town, promising to come back within the hour, bidding goodbye with sweet kisses for both his lover and their new pet, who no one had claimed for two weeks. 

‘Not to say I don’t like you y’know…you really are ‘terribly adorable’,’ he said, mimicking Maurice’s accent and making himself chuckle.  
‘You keep him really happy too. It’s like he’s a Ma or som-ing, always frettin’ after you, giving you his food when I know he’s not full, but still showerin’ you wi’ kisses an’ all. He always tells me about you, ‘George learned his name, George likes you, you can tell because he always comes in your lap and not mine’,’ Alec made a pouty face like Maurice had, which had been very endearing indeed. Alec knew a thing or two about cats and dogs, that the former usually didn’t like it when people ran after them, like his lover would, and would prefer their own space and comfort, and would begin to trust you if you paid them no mind, and then eventually become affectionate. Often when Alec would be sitting and reading something, or napping, George would slowly squeeze himself wherever there was space, in the comfort of the space created by Alec’s folded legs or the softness of his belly. Maurice would look over, and smile, feeling warmth spread all around him.

~

In the dim of their bedroom, the bed creaked as Maurice was pushed onto it, who pulled Alec in his arms, snickering as he took his bottom lip between his, sucking and pulling his shirt up. Alec moaned, his submissive side awakened by the tender rubbing of his nipples; as Maurice bent down to take them in his mouth, looking up at his lover with sweet blue eyes, tempting and mischievous. A hand wandered onto his waist, snaking down, down…

‘We have an audience,’ Maurice whispered, tilting his head towards the doorway, stifling a laugh.  
Alec tensed, his jaw clenched as he turned around to see that infernal cat, sitting like a bloody prince at the entryway as if he belonged there. He got up, separating himself from irresistible Maurice, who shook his head and laughed.

‘Alright, enough of the show for you, go on George,’ Alec urged, impatient, while he just stared up at him. Are you talking to me? He seemed to ask.  
‘George, please?’ he pleaded, but to no avail. The cat wouldn’t budge.  
Maurice, still laughing, came to the doorway and scooped up the feline in his arms, planting a kiss on his head, and taking him to his bed in the den, where he was placed lovingly and given another darling kiss goodnight.

When the lovers awoke in the morning, naked but warm underneath the mound of blankets and quilts, they found their George nestled at the foot of the bed, the small body rising and falling, finding the utmost comfort in the valley between the hills made by two pairs of feet.


End file.
